The Marriage Lesson Read Online Free PDF Page A

indignantly. “I think my opinion should be taken into consideration, given as the discussion is what I shall be wearing.”
    “As do I,” Becky said with a frown. “Come, now, Marianne, you can’t possibly think—”
    “Oh, but I do.” Marianne hooked her arm through her aunt’s and steered her toward the door. “After all, Aunt Louella has experience and knowledge far beyond our own as to what is truly fashionable and it can only be to our benefit to allow her to guide us in such things.”
    Jocelyn and Becky traded glances and Marianne bit back a sigh.
    Once again, alliances had shifted and foes were now allies. Still, there was never a question that when matters were of a serious nature the Shelton sisters would always form a united front. More often than not, that front was against Aunt Louella. Even with Jocelyn, who most among the girls had fallen prey to the elderly woman’s stories of the glories of London and the joys of the social season, there was no question of her primary allegiance.
    Not that Lady Louella Codling’s heart wasn’t in the right place. It had been ever since she’d moved in to take care of her dead sister’s daughters a dozen years ago. But the woman brooked no nonsense and never so much as laughed more than once or twice a year. In addition, Aunt Louella had always hated the girls’ father, the late Earl of Shelbrooke, not that Marianne could blame her, and until recently hadn’t seemed to care much more for their brother, Richard.
Her aunt studied her for a moment. “Excellent idea.” She nodded at the dressmaker and the woman followed them. Louella glanced back at the younger girls. “I shall send a maid to help you, Jocelyn.”
    “No.” Marianne jerked opened the door. “I mean, it’s not necessary. We can help her.”
    “Not me,” Becky said under her breath.
    “Very well.” Aunt Louella turned to the seamstress. “You must thank Madame Renault for being so kind as to permit you to do these final fittings here rather than at her shop. I do hope . . . ” They stepped through the door and Marianne closed it behind them.
    “Kind?” Becky scoffed. “Given the scandalous amount of money we’ve spent, the woman should come and dress us on a daily basis.” She grinned. “It is great fun, though, isn’t it?”
    “It is indeed.” Marianne laughed. After living most of their lives having to watch each penny, the girls still weren’t used to being able to purchase whatever they wished without worry. Only Jocelyn had taken to spending money without Marianne’s twinge of guilt or Becky’s sense of wonder. “Now, then,” she said brightly, “let’s talk.”
    “What do you want to talk about?” Idle curiosity sounded in Jocelyn’s voice. She reached out and Marianne helped her off the stool.
    Becky smirked. “Whatever it is, she was certainly eager to get rid of Aunt Louella first.”
“I wasn’t eager at all,” Marianne lied. “I simply wanted to talk about . . .  well . . .  our lives and futures and our expectations. It’s so much easier to speak freely without Aunt Louella here.”
    Once again, Jocelyn and Becky exchanged glances.
    “Not if that’s all you want to talk about,” Becky said slowly. “I thought it was understood. The only purpose of a London season is to make good matches. It’s our lot in life.” She stood and reluctantly moved to assist Marianne. “We are, as Aunt Louella never fails to point out, well-bred young ladies with a responsibil-ity to our family. And substantial dowries.” Becky’s words rang with all the sincerity of a memorized recitation.
    Marianne stared at her. “But that is what you want, isn’t it?”
    Becky shrugged. “Eventually.”
    “I, for one, have no intention of wedding after my first season.” Jocelyn turned to allow her sisters to undo the variety of pins, tapes and other fasteners that held her dress in place.
    “What do you intend?” Until this moment Marianne had no idea